


Something More Than Dreams

by jedjubeed



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M, it's straight fluff, spoiler but not really: they kiss, this is just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-22 20:20:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19993459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jedjubeed/pseuds/jedjubeed
Summary: They were two stars circling one another, and Crowley knew firsthand that only two things could happen when two stars collided. They would form a black hole, or they would entwine together, merge themselves into one, forever combining their light to shine brighter than either one was capable of individually. Crowley knew one of two things could happen, and he so badly wanted to know.





	Something More Than Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is just a funky little oneshot I wanted to write. Enjoy!

“At least you’re allowed to lick the bloody walls,” Crowley slurred over the rim of his 5th (or was it his 7th?) glass of wine, before indulging the liquid into his mouth.

“Excuse me?” Aziraphale could barely get the words out around a fit of giggles taking up his mouth like warm marbles. That’s what Crowley thought they were like, at least. He had no justification for this, he just thought it.

“You know? You don’t remember? Strictly forbidden in Hell. Can’t lick the walls, it’s just not allowed.” 

“What kind of bloke would want to lick the walls? Oh, you demons.” Aziraphale’s voice carried soft amusement with it. Silk, linen. Soft fabric. White. Pure.

“I’m telling you,” Crowley shifted his whole body into pointing a finger into Aziraphale’s chest in order to prove his point, but the only outcome of it was that he leaned into the other’s space. “Different breed of ‘em down there, I’m _telling you._ Gabriel couldn’t stand it a second.”

“What has Gabriel got to do with it?” There was that chuff again. Crowley thought it was soft, and pure, like warm silk. Crowley thought Aziraphale was warm and soft. 

“You know, big bad leader of Heaven and all. ‘S not as big and bad as you think he is. Mommy’s boy, all he cares about is approval. Right annoying tool, he is. Tosser.” Aziraphale hadn’t stopped chuckling, but something about Crowley calling him a tosser was enough to have him in a fit of giggles again.

Aziraphale was to drunk to notice the implications of that outburst of Crowley’s. Either he was too drunk, or he chose to ignore it due to already having a plan halfway set in motion, which could likely be set on hold if absolutely dire, but far enough in that his resolution gave him the momentum to continue.

Aziraphale faced up to Crowley, a drunken, toothy grin on his face. The bright beaming smile wasn’t unusual to be found on the angel’s face, but Crowley thought it may as well had been the first time he’d seen it every time he saw it. 

“I suppose you’re right, my dear boy.” Blue eyes locked into vibrant gold, seeing as Crowley always discarded his sunglasses for such activities (drinking). “I don’t think we should occupy our minds with Gabriel.”

Crowley had seemed to catch onto whatever Aziraphale seemed to be hinting at by means of inching closer, locking Crowley in to take hardly even a breath, lest he startle the other off like some kind of wild animal. He didn’t want to bring attention to the only thing the both of them could concentrate on, which happened to be how the angel’s hand was brushing over the demon’s, which lay on the couch between them. 

It could have been chaste, Crowley thought, like many other things they did. The way Crowley undoubtedly used _angel_ as a pet name, the way they constantly went out to upscale dinners and drank wine and champagne - surely that was all platonic. With the way his skin was prickling, as if he’d been set alight by a fire he wanted everything to do with, he had a feeling this wasn’t chaste.

“Have you anything else for us to occupy our minds with?” It was a simple inquiry from Crowley, but the way it came out wasn’t at all how he expected it to. It came out barely above a breath, as his eyelids dropped from bemusement to intimate understanding. He expected it to be nonchalant, but it was the most invested Crowley thought he’d ever sounded about anything else in his whole life.

Crowley felt as the touch ghosting his hand began to migrate. Over the wrist, up the arm, so slowly he could almost tell himself it wasn’t happening. The hand ended up on the back of his neck, index finger smoothing over his hairline. He felt prickles of electricity racing down his spine, coupled with pins and needles at every point of contact between his flesh and the angel’s. Aziraphale didn’t respond, not verbally, but he did answer with a minute tilt of his head, as soon as he was sure the demon’s focus was back on searching his eyes.

Crowley felt something within himself, this time. A flutter of movement, and a magnetic pull, as if in orbit. They were two stars circling one another, and Crowley knew firsthand that only two things could happen when two stars collided. They would form a black hole, or they would entwine together, merge themselves into one, forever combining their light to shine brighter than either one was capable of individually. Crowley knew one of two things could happen, and he so badly wanted to know.

In one fluid motion, Crowley reached up to take Aziraphale’s arm, closing the distance between them so they could properly collide. He could feel the angel relax into the kiss, and then push back, and Crowley pressed his hand into the small of Aziraphale’s back. They were both drunk enough to completely lose themselves into the kiss, to completely entwine themselves into one. Neither of them would have admitted it, but at the same time, they both could have sworn they shone brighter than either of them ever could have on their own.


End file.
